


The Deal

by pterodactyldrops



Series: good as new [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactyldrops/pseuds/pterodactyldrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“MacCready? You okay back there?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course,” he says and she can practically feel his eyes rolling. Her eyes catch the brim of his hat tilting upwards over a shelf filled with boxes of dishwasher detergent. “You impressed yet?”</p><p>“No,” Molly says immediately. “What the hell kind of mercenary would you be if you couldn’t survive a few  ghouls?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deal

“MacCready? You okay back there?”

It’s quiet again. The ringing  in her ears from gunshots subsides. No more groans from the ghouls at her feet. Molly tilts her head, straining for his voice even as she loosens the grip on her shotgun.

“Yeah,  _of course_ ,” he says and she can practically feel his eyes rolling. Her eyes catch the brim of his hat tilting upwards over a shelf filled with boxes of dishwasher detergent. “You impressed yet?”

“No,” Molly says immediately. “What the hell kind of mercenary would you be if you couldn’t survive a few  ghouls?”

She thumbs the shells she’s got left in her other hand as she walks back towards the lobby. Only three. Her knuckles turn white from gripping them so tightly in her fist. Three shells away from getting overrun by ghouls. Close call. _Close, too close_ , MacCready would say, then laugh too loudly at his own dumb joke.

“I’m worth every penny,” he calls out.

Pennies. Caps. Crinkled, irradiated bills—whatever currency, she’s paying him.  That’s gotta be the only reason he sticks around. The only reason he was here, thinning out the crowd of ghouls that rushed her. Money. Not misplaced honor like Preston. MacCready didn’t cling to a code of ethics like the Paladin did. Mercenary work was the only reason he had her back.

She tries to ignore his fingers gripping his rifle. Pretends like she doesn’t notice how he hasn’t moved his face from his scope—how he won’t until she’s standing on the other side of the shelf with him. She won’t. She  _can’t_.

“I told you I was better off in the lobby,” MacCready chides. He relaxes back against the shelf, sitting on the ground.

“Whatever happened to  _you point, I shoot_ ,” she repeats, sliding down next to him, legs bumping into his, “ _Pretty simple arrangement_?”

MacCready reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a crinkled packet of cigarettes she tossed at him a few weeks ago. “Maybe it’s—”

She catches his eyes.  _It’s not so simple anymore_. Maybe it’s not  _so_ simple.  _Simple_. Not simple. Maybe.

If he says it, it’s just one of his dumb comments. Gotta be. It’s gotta be a careless phrase. A throwaway set of words that will still punch her in the stomach and wind her unexpectedly.

“Maybe?” Molly prompts.

“Maybe— _damn_ ,” he says, laughing, shaking his head, “I could, uh, maybe go for a cigarette?” He starts patting his chest with his spare hand, looking at anywhere but her. “Where’s my lighter?”

Her stomach stops knotting and grabs one of the spare lighters she’d planned to scrap. “Good think I collect so much junk,” she says wryly.

MacCready takes the lighter from her hands. Fingers brush. It’s so stupid, so corny, like something out of the movies Nate used to force her to watch with him, but her hand feels warm where it connected with MacCready’s and she pulls it away as fast as she can. “Do I get to take that out of the caps I owe you?” she asks.

He grins at her. “What? It’s not on the house?”

“I’m  _paying_ you,” Molly says, firmness in her voice more for her benefit then his.

“Yeah,” MacCready agrees, lighting the end of the cigarette. “Keep leading and I’ll follow you. That’s the deal, right?”

She doesn’t notice the unsure look on his face. The hesitation. The question that hangs there. No, she doesn’t notice. She doesn’t. She won’t. She refuses.

“Yup. That’s the deal.”


End file.
